


end of the world

by saintpyrite



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Apocalypse, Drinking & Talking, End of the World, Gen, M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintpyrite/pseuds/saintpyrite
Summary: Jeremy and Michael watch the end of the world together.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley & Michael Jones
Kudos: 9





	end of the world

Michael sits on the roof of the apartment complex, watching the stars fall from the sky in splendid fashion. He listens to the streets below, it doesn't feel so different than any other Saturday. 

It wouldn't be different if it wasn't the end of the world.

He hears the strain of the fire escape, the rattle and groan of the metal. Michael doesn't look away from the fire trails in the sky to see who it is. He knows who it is. 

He'd asked Jeremy to join him. He got himself a front row seat to the apocalypse and had an extra ticket. 

Jeremy makes himself at home beside him, a plastic bag on his left. His shirt is smeared with blood and his nose is broken. His knuckles are bruised and bloodied. Michael doesn't ask questions. 

The two of them sit there. The sky is ablaze with reds and oranges and harsh whites against a pitch black backdrop. It's beautiful or it would be, if it wasn't the end of the world. 

"I'm a little disappointed," Jeremy says, breaking the comfortable silence. 

"You're disappointed in the apocalypse, of course you fucking are," Michael rolls his eyes, "Did you bring me a beer?" 

Jeremy hands him a bottle. It's cheap beer, lukewarm and Michael has to wipe the blood down on his jeans. He hates the feeling of grime, sweat and blood on his nasty, cheap ass beer but it's the end of the world. 

So he uses his swiss knife and he lets the foam spill over. It isn't as if he'll be doing laundry after tonight. He holds up his glass in toast, "To the apocalypse." 

"To the apocalypse," Jeremy grins, teeth bared and blood smeared. He's lost a tooth in the last hour. Michael smiles back and their bottles clink together. It feels like an ordinary Saturday night. 

They laugh together and Michael laughs harder. They're going to die in a few hours and it has never been a funny thought up until now, knowing they were doomed. 

They could have tried to delay the inevitable, packed their bags and drive away together. Hunker down and lay low, hoping the stars wouldn't burn them up and reduce them to ash. Pray for a God to listen and bring them rapture. 

"To the end of the world," Michael knows there is no rapture. "This is it." 

The two of them watch the stars fall, Michael wonders if they've reached his hometown. He wonders if his mother is looking at the sky or if she is under the rubble of a fallen star. He wonders how long it'll be before the stars reach him and Jeremy. 

"I wasn't joking about being disappointed," Jeremy drinks, "I was expecting something more." 

"More like what?" 

"I don't know, the four horsemen, fire and brimstone?" he asks, shrugging, "The kind of things they tell you about in church." 

"But it's just stars," Michael says, his voice whistling over the glass bottle. He hates the way the beer is lukewarm and the cheap taste lingers but it's going to be the last beer he'll ever have again and in the same vein of thought, Michael realises Jeremy is going to be the person he spends his final moments with. 

It could be worse. 

"It's just stars," Jeremy echoes, "What do you think death will be like?" 

"Fuck if I know," Michael reaches out his hand and rests it on top of Jeremy's hand. "Do you think it'll hurt?" 

Jeremy takes Michael's hand in his own. The sky is near empty now. They're growing closer. They don't have much time left. 

Their grip tightens, "I hope not." 


End file.
